What
follows is a Mormon Santa Xmas Classic. As it is with any ancient
sacred religious text or holiday TV special, some of the references may
seem somewhat dated now...
The Book of Blog (Episode I)
1 ’Twas the Night before the few that were left, and all over the Net every Creature was Blogging, even "The Hoff".
2
And Mormon Santa Texted and Messaged upon His Cell, oblivious to the
constraints of this World or the placement of any Furniture herein.
3 Ho--!
He said, with a Fart. And where before it stood not, now stood a great
Monolith, rising as high as a man of above average height standing atop
another more modest monolith.
4
Having encountered the Monolith thusly, Mormon Santa fell into a deep
Trance and backwards. When He rose again, He danced and chanted and
made Offerings of Marlboros and Caipirinhas unto it, and He named it
Paris Hilton.
5 C’mon, Paris, why don’t we show these mere Boretals how to Par-TAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?
6
He had only to lay His hands upon Paris Hilton and she was
spread-eagled before Him, and yielded unto Him her Secret Treasure of
Explicit Roman Picture Books, multitudes of brightly shining Discs, and
elaborate Jingle-Belled Harnesses and Whips.
7
And, after a time, Mormon Santa withdrew His Hand from Paris Hilton’s
drawers, removing a brick, or what was in appearance much like a
smaller, Baby Monolith, and this He put into the Mouth of Paris Hilton.
8 And for His Offering we were shown a Great Vision of XXXmases Past.
9
Those who were there, the Blogging Apostles and Celebrity Superstars
among them, affixed their gaze on Paris Hilton, her taught, Thirty and
Six Inch Belly all aglow with colossal Priapuses, and unshorn Virginas,
and Candy Canes that huzzaed like Locusts.
10 Whaadaya say, Paris? Why don’t we PIMP this retro shit UP with a little PopoZAO?
11
Mrs. Mormon Santa, the one who’s the Aura Massage Therapist and
Macchiato Master, upon whom Mormon Santa had performed His Miracle of
the Augmentation, and now a mere acquaintance, was first to speak.
12
I beseech You, O Lord! Though Thy Angel Kevin’s singing is assuredly
the most ethereal of any Sphere to which those on Earth ever have been
treated, is not the Volume far more than our Mortal Ears can for long
endure?
13 Po-po-PopoZao! PopoZAO! Said The Lord, defiantly.
14
All turned their attention to Mormon Santa’s beauteous plastic grass
Sarong, mesmerized by the Unseen Forces that held it suspended where
there was no Ass, and feasted upon the Meat Loaves and Hickory Smoked
Cherubs and Golden Egg Salads and every description of Jellied Bean and
Malted Ball that He’d miraculously pulled from It.
15
Then, by means of some Sorceressery, Mrs. Mormon Santa conjured a Bang
Stick, the same Magic Bang Stick that the Prophet Emookie had used to
slay the Giants and the Gators, and this she presented unceremoniously
to the back of Our Lord’s Holy Brain Tray.
16 What the Po, Ho?
17 My Lord, PopoDOWN! RIGHT NOW! Or Someone’s gonna require a CLOSED TOMB RESURECTION!
18 And Whoa!
In a twinkling, Ex-Mrs. Mormon Santa was turned into a Lump of Coal,
which Mormon Santa then returned back unto Dust, using the Bang Stick.
19 It is done, BITCH!
20 And with this, Mormon Santa slipped and collapsed in His own Sugar Plum Schnapps Sick. Amen.
My Children,
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